I work as a beautician at a really nice salon on the outskirts of town. My boss is very ambitious and progressive and is always looking for ways to expand the business and offer more services. One of her recent upgrades was to offer more skin treatments, the most impressive part of this was having a professional therapeutic mud bath installed.
Now, another thing my boss is very good at is promoting the business via various social media channels, often using very impactful, slightly left field methods.
She came up with a very unusual way to promote our new mud therapy services. Allow me to explain the strategy.
Our premises are right next to a small river. This disappears away to next to nothing at low tide, leaving a large area of mud exposed. In fact, we often knew when low tide was because we could smell the mud. My boss, and her fertile mind, had come up with the idea of taking some photographs of a girl sinking in the mud to be teamed with an advert saying something like "No need for DIY mud baths anymore" and then sharing the details of the new mud therapy suite. I could imagine this hitting the social media streams and grabbing quite a lot of attention. It's fair to say I thought it was an excellent, and very amusing idea. It then became apparent that she wanted me to go in the mud!
She looked me in the eye and said "will you do this for me Lauren? I realise it's really mucky and smelly but I think it'll be a lot more powerful if it's actually a member of our staff in the mud". I looked at her in disbelief. "How will people know I'm a member of staff?" She smiled. "Wear a uniform, as if you were at work!"
"What, you mean, if I agree to this you want me to go in the mud wearing my normal clothes?" She chuckled slightly. "Yes, I think that'll give it maximum impact don't you? Dress exactly like you would on a normal day at work. Don't worry about spoiling any clothes, I'll give you a spare uniform that we can just dispose of afterwards". I was amazed. "Really? That's crazy! What about my feet? I'm not going in there with bare feet!" Again, she laughed. "I want you to look completely normal so wear your usual ballet pumps with your black socks. Exactly as if you were at work!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I looked down at my little shoes. Wellingtons they were not. They didn't cover much of my feet, there was a large area of my socks on display to the world. This is why I always wore black socks, so they blended in. My socks would get really muddy if I did this. I imagined sinking in the mud whilst being photographed. I thought about the horror of my socks getting filthy. "I think it's pretty deep in places, do you think it'll come over my shoes? Will I get muddy socks?" Again, she laughed. "Lauren my dear, I want you to get really muddy all over including your socks! Of course, you'll get some mud on your socks! That's rather the point sweetie! Your shoes are tiny little things, we can see lots of your socks can't we? So yes, the socks will end up somewhat muddy! You might even have fun and enjoy it!" Again, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She thought this would be fun? She continued. "I don't want you tip-toeing into the mud trying to stay clean Lauren, remember, the advertising campaign is for our mud bath. I want you to get your clothes very muddy in there. Have a really good squelch around! Your shoes, socks, trousers and tunic all need to be nice and dirty! Don't hold back in there, have a proper bath in it!"
She said it as if asking someone to get covered in mud whilst fully clothed was the most normal thing in the world. And, thinking about it, her calm rationale about the whole crazy idea was strangely persuasive, and a large part of the reason why I said I'd do it.
It's fair to say my boss was overjoyed when I finally agreed to get muddy for her. It was decided that we'd take the photos on the morning of the following Friday and, as my reward, I could have the rest of the day off.
Just before I left work on the Thursday, the boss disappeared off to a store cupboard and came back with a spare uniform for me. "Here you go Lauren, you can use this one for your mud bath, it's brand new but the stitching on the tunic has a minor fault so I just kept it for a spare. Luckily, it's a size 10 so perfect for you!" Our uniform consisted of a smart, dark blue tunic style top, and close-fitting "skinny" black trousers. It was going to be so, so weird to get dressed up in this as usual, only to get completely filthy, on purpose.
I must admit, I'd thought about the impending mud bath in the oozy river bank all week. It was never far from my mind, and I did find myself feeling quite nervous about what was going to happen to me. I couldn't stop thinking about how bad it was actually going to smell down there in that thick mud. In a way, it was nice when Friday actually arrived and I could just kind of get on with it and get it done.
I struggled to sleep the night before, I was that nervous about the photoshoot. When I got up on Friday morning the butterflies in my stomach were very enthusiastic! I got dressed as normal, putting on the new uniform I'd been given. I opened my sock drawer. I chose some black socks, but they had raspberry pink contrasting heels and toes and pictures of cherries on the soles of the feet. I might be going to "play" in the mud, but I wasn't going to do it in boring socks. I pulled them on, proud of my decision to wear such banging socks in a mud bath. Seriously, it was my little bit of fightback against the humiliating situation. I'm going in the mud, but I'm going in the mud in some fun socks. Finally, I slipped on my ballet pumps. They were neat little black ones with large floppy bows on the fronts. With them on, my socks reverted to demure black, all the fun colourful parts were concealed inside the shoes. I looked in the full-length mirror. I was entirely "normal" for a day at work. Crisply ironed uniform, smart shoes, neat black socks. I couldn't really get my head around what I was going to do whilst wearing these clothes.
I went to work at the usual time, feeling incredibly nervous. My boss was her usual hyper self when I arrived, clearly excited about getting her latest social media campaign underway via my foray into the mud. "Thanks again for agreeing to do this Lauren, I do realise it's going to be pretty whiffy and dirty down there in the mud" she said, smiling. "No problem" I replied. "The things we do for Friday afternoon off eh?" This caused the pair of us to chuckle, I think my laughter was more nerves than anything else. We sat down and had a cup of tea, just waiting another half an hour or so for absolute low-tide so the mud would be totally exposed and at its absolute "best". When I didn't feel I could stall anymore, I took off my watch and put my long blonde hair into a couple of plaits, and that was me ready to dunk myself in mud.
Anyway, time to get down to it. My boss was brandishing her camera and keen to get me all dirty. I reluctantly walked out to the edge of the riverbank, followed by my excited boss. When we arrived, I surveyed the large expanse of exposed mud and struggled to comprehend that I was about to voluntarily step into it. In my ballet pumps and black socks. Before I took the plunge, the boss took a short "before" video of me, with the mud as a backdrop. Later on, she edited it and set it to the song that goes "Mud, mud, glorious mud" much to my amusement. Once we'd done with that, she started to give me instructions. "Right Lauren, don't jump in, in case you get stuck. Sit down on the edge of the path and carefully lower yourself, shoes-first into the mud. Then walk out across it and when you're nicely into it, say about there, (she pointed at an area about 25 feet away) I want you to sit down in it and basically get it all over yourself. You simply have to wallow in the mud and get as covered as you can. Make sure you get your clothes nice and filthy, then pose for pictures looking serious, as if this is actually a premium skin treatment for you. Ham it up girl!"
The time really had come then. I sat down on the edge and lowered my shoes down towards the mud. With my legs at full stretch, I was still a few centimetres away from the mud. I'd have to ease my bum off the path and kind of slide in. I looked wistfully down at my lovely ballet pumps with their big floppy bows coordinating perfectly with my smart black socks. Was I really going to put my feet into this mud? I couldn't really believe what I was doing. "In you get then Lauren! The mud awaits! Enjoy yourself!" the boss shouted. What on earth did she mean I was thinking. How could this possibly be fun? My mind raced with the absurdity of it all.
My heart was thumping in my chest as I slid my bum off the edge where I was sitting and lowered my feet into the mud. It was much deeper than I was expecting and I quickly sank almost to my knees. It was really slimy and wet and I could feel cold, liquid mud filling my shoes. The sensation of it squelching and soaking my socks was outrageous. I wiggled my toes and could feel slime INSIDE my shoes. I felt detached, like I was watching myself from the outside, I guess because this was so far outside my comfort zone. The song popped into my head. "Mud, mud, glorious mud!" My knee-deep-in-mud trance was quickly shattered by a shout from the boss. "Well done Lauren, you're in the mud! You did it! I bet it feels amazing to sink in there! Now go for it, go out to where it's a bit deeper and get really, really muddy for me!" I started to think that she must be quite, quite mad. She honestly seemed to believe that this should be fun for me. I was going to get dirtier than I'd ever been in my life, fully clothed, and I was supposed to enjoy it? I tried to do as I was told anyway. With a massive effort, and a loud sucking squelch, I managed to withdraw my left foot from the mud. It was so thick that it was actually really difficult to keep my shoe on. I managed it by tensing my foot in a particular way. After all the effort of pulling my foot out without losing my shoe, I stood for a moment, on one leg and took in the state of the shoe and sock, now covered in, and dripping with sloppy mud. I took a large step and put it back into the mud, sighing as I quickly sank back up to my knee with a muffled splattering sound occurring below the surface of the muck. And that was how I made it out to the area my boss had earmarked for the main photoshoot, although she was snapping loads of pictures of me as I struggled in the knee-deep mud. By far the hardest thing about walking in it was not losing my shoes. I wondered if I'd have been better off not wearing them and just doing it in socks. I mean, it wasn't like my little shoes were protecting me particularly. My socks were getting extremely muddy regardless. But my boss had wanted me looking "normal" for the pre-mud shots so I had to have ballet pumps on, I couldn't just be in my socks. This is how I came to be struggling in the shoe-sucking quagmire, desperately trying to hang on to my footwear!
I thought I'd let the boss know how hard I was finding it, maybe at this stage she'd let me take my shoes off? I really wanted to. I mean, grim though it would be to subject my lovely socks to a "naked" mudding, it would be miles easier to move in the mud. "It's really hard to keep my shoes on in here!" I yelled. She laughed and replied "Yeah, I thought it might be! I'm surprised you haven't lost them yet! I thought they'd be sucked off in the mud!" Literally as she said that, my right foot came completely out of my shoe and I stood helplessly on one leg with my muddy sock in the air. The bright pink heel and toe of the black sock were still visible, albeit grubby from the liquid mud that had oozed into my shoe. I didn't regret my decision to wear such flamboyant, pretty socks. Despite this enforced mud bath, who wants to wear boring socks? I shuddered slightly as I put my foot back into the mud, next to where my shoe was. The thick, wet mud felt smooth and slimy as it coated my sock and I yelled to the watching boss, "I've lost one shoe and I think the other's about to come off!" And that's exactly what happened. I pulled my left foot out and the mud sucked my other shoe off too. Now my socks were REALLY muddy. I crouched down and put my hands into the mud where the shoes were when they'd come off. I managed to pull them both out with a comedy squelching noise. I tossed them back to the path, near where the boss was and shouted "I'm going to just stay in my socks now! It's disgusting, but easier to walk around!" The boss giggled and replied "As you wish sweetie! Have fun in your muddy socks!" There she goes again with her assertion that this is "fun" I thought to myself. I looked down at my plight, my smart black trousers in the mud up to the knees, shoes gone, socks now fully in the mud, even the jazzy pink parts. I wiggled my toes, feeling the thick, wet slop enveloping the thin socks that were now all I had between my feet and the horrific black mud. I really hadn't considered that my shoes would come off in the mud and I'd have to do this with only socks on! The boss continued to shout from her vantage point. "Lauren, make your way in a bit further to that really wet, splodgy area then really cover yourself in it! You can even lay down in it, go on, get your clothes really filthy!" Thinking about it, although I'd lost my shoes, I was glad I was doing this fully clothed. I think it might have looked like we were trying to make it "sexy" if I'd been in, say, a bikini. The fact that we'd opted for clothed would hopefully make an interesting advert. I found myself wondering if anybody had ever wallowed in mud in a beautician's uniform and fun, black socks before. I decided that they hadn't and I must be a pioneer. I continued wading through the knee-deep smelly filth until I got to the super splodgy area that the boss seemed so keen on. And still she shouted. "That's it! That bit looks so sinky and gloopy! It might be a bit deeper so you can really get yourself dirty!" I decided to just get on with it. I lunged forward onto my knees and flopped onto my front in the wet, black mud. I felt it slathering all over the front of my tunic. As my face was mere centimetres above the surface now, it absolutely stank too. I couldn't quite believe what I was doing as I writhed in the mud, trying to cover my clothes in it. The boss was almost going mad on the sidelines. "Awesome Lauren! Look at you playing in the mud like a naughty girl! Go for it sweetie, have a really squelchy time!" I couldn't help smiling at her ridiculous enthusiasm. I rolled over, making sure to get my back muddy, then sat up in the mud and posed for the camera whilst sitting cross-legged. The boss was snapping away with her expensive camera. "Oh Lauren, you look so cute sitting in the mud with your legs crossed!" I smiled and started to rub the mud into any areas of my clothes that had somehow escaped it. I even splurged a load all over my feet in case my socks weren't totally covered in mud. This self-administered muddy foot massage felt truly surreal, and was all captured on camera. "Lauren sweetie, can I be a pain and ask you to put a bit of mud on your face and in your lovely hair? I think that'll be a beautiful finishing touch!" I was pretty much past caring now so ran my muddy fingers along my cheeks and then massaged two large handfuls of mud into my blonde hair, and all the way along my plaits. I continued to pose for the camera in my filthy state.
"OK Lauren, that's a wrap! I think we've got everything we need, what a great sport you are! Get yourself out of the mud now and we'll attempt to get you cleaned up!" This was easier said than done. I didn't dare stand up in the really splodgy bit that I was in. I feared it might be waist deep and I'd get stuck. How embarrassing would that be? So I kind of crawled across it on all fours, spreading my weight. Even so, my hands, knees and feet were sinking in a long way. When I got to the slightly more stable mud, I stood up and waded back to the edge. When I say more stable, it was still knee deep and sticky. Finally, I climbed back up onto the path after retrieving my shoes. I'm not sure why I bothered, but I put the shoes back on, smiling at how slippery and slimy my mud-covered socks felt inside them. The boss snapped a few more shots of me so she could have a proper before and after gallery, then we made our way back to the salon so I could be showered in my clothes!
My boss looked at me, smiling. "I'm so proud of you Lauren, and so grateful for what you've done for me. That must've been so awful for you!" I giggled, replying "You know I'll do anything to get Friday afternoon off, and actually, to be completely honest, that was really fun, although I absolutely stink now!" The boss roared with laughter. "Well, I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but yes, you really do smell bad! Come on, let's go up to the salon, I'll help you get cleaned up".
I followed her, squelching and splattering my way back to the building. We had a couple of showers adjacent to the mud therapy suite and my boss opened up a fire exit, enabling me to get into one of them without having to travel through the main entrance into the building. This meant I didn't leave a great big trail of smelly slime through the reception! I took my shoes off and hopped into the shower still fully clothed and stood under the powerful stream of hot water. Slowly but surely I managed to rinse the mud off, starting with my hair and working downwards. It was funny seeing my tunic gradually go back to a grubby blue, and my trousers turning black again. The funniest thing of all was seeing the raspberry pink heels and toes of my black socks emerging from underneath the thick layer of mud that I'd subjected them to. When I'd removed the worst of the mud from the clothes, I stripped everything off, soaped my naked body down about three times to try to remove the smell of the ooze, then dried off and... realised I didn't have a change of clothes with me. Laughing, I shouted to the boss, explaining my predicament. She produced a spare uniform for me to go home in, then rustled up a pair of shoes for me to borrow. She even found a pair of black and white striped socks that I gratefully put on my cold feet. I was going to look a bit weird going home in ballerinas with stripy socks on, but I didn't care!
I put the entire mud outfit into the onsite washing machine and set it to a good, long program with a pre-wash, and hoped for the best! I couldn't shake off the faint whiff of mud for a couple of days, and it took me really quite some time to clean my finger and toenails, they were horribly black upon my departure from the mud!
I said goodbye to my boss and left the salon. It was 11:15am.
The things I do for Friday afternoon off...